


Witness

by heartequals (savvygambols), savvygambols



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-17
Updated: 2010-06-17
Packaged: 2017-10-10 03:59:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/95244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savvygambols/pseuds/heartequals, https://archiveofourown.org/users/savvygambols/pseuds/savvygambols
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Monica is a witness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Witness

After Spender gives his testimony, Monica drives him to a temporary safe house in rural Maryland.

He doesn’t speak for most of the ride out there, asking only to stop at a rest area and whether William has been safe as the trial progresses.

“Dana gave him up for adoption,” says Monica. “He’ll be safe now.”

“Ah,” says Spender. A little while later, he sighs.

 

 

Covarrubias glares at her. “There is no one by that name at this address,” she says. “Please leave my property.”

“Ms. Covarrubias,” says Monica, and then, “Marita.” She says, “Mulder is on trial for the murder of a man who cannot die. You are the only one who can help him.”

As if her words are a bullet, Marita shatters in front of her. “You take,” she cries, “and you take and you take and you take—“

 

 

As John enters the courtroom to tell Skinner who his next witness is, Monica feels suddenly possessive of the boy. “Are you sure, Gibson?” she asks, patting his hair down. “You don’t have to do this.”

He doesn’t even look up at her. “Yes I do.”

 

 

Right before he goes in she steps up to him to adjust his tie. Not because he needs it – like John Doggett will ever need his tie straightened – but because she needs to touch him. Dull anxiety curls in her chest and though she knows that he would never dream of it, she can’t help thinking that there is still time for him to turn around, walk out, leave with a mostly clean record—

“Mon,” he says, touching her shoulders. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“I know,” she mutters, but she cannot quite bring herself to put her hands down. Her fear for him is heavy.

He squeezes her shoulders. “Don’t worry. Kersh can’t kill me _in_ court.”

 

 

She leaves the courtroom at a stride and, in the bathroom, weeps.


End file.
